


Bandage

by Blurhawaii



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, can be read as platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 04:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1414639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blurhawaii/pseuds/Blurhawaii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Daryl?” Rick croaked into the darkness, still sounding so raw and broken that Daryl tightened his grip.</p><p>“It’s fucking cold,” he said and, this close, his breath came back warm against his face.</p><p>Set after Season 4 finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bandage

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I think a loaded touch is so much sexier than straight up porn...
> 
> For this kinkmeme prompt: http://twd-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/5396.html?thread=7430932#t7430932

It was a pretty shitty reunion as far as things go, made only arguably better than the one Daryl had experienced the night before by the fierce, present look that steeled over Rick’s face while he addressed the group.

His family.

Glenn had nodded in reassurance when Rick’s eyes lingered on the new faces over his shoulder and that was all he needed to widen the sentiment to include them. Trust by proxy was a luxury Daryl was happy to accept considering the situation. That Rick was still willing to do the same meant a lot.

Only, trapped like rats in a cage, it didn’t last long. Morale dropped swiftly along with the temperature and the fleeting light was soon to catch up.

They may be a family but one by one they each broke off into their own respective huddles.

The new faces stuck to one end of the container. Daryl could only just make out the military man, propped up against the unrelenting metal walls, with his arms and ankles crossed to stave off some of the chill. His buddies surrounded him, dark blobs in the shadows, and the distance was unnecessary but possibly also a gesture of goodwill.

Glenn and Maggie, too wrapped up in each other to distinguish limb from limb, straddled the invisible fence between the groups. Sasha and Bob lay comfortably close together opposite them and Daryl allowed himself a moment to appreciate one of the few good things to come out of the group’s forced separation.

Finally, his eyes were drawn to the picture in front of him, the picture that brought a somewhat guilty lump to his throat.

There was a sizable gap between where Carl had chosen to curl up, his head resting safely on Michonne’s thigh, and where Rick now lay.

It was stupid to think that all of their wounds, both physical and emotional, could be healed overnight; the burning ache in his lungs made sure he knew that but it was still another kick in the ribs to see Rick so physically close yet emotionally withdrawn.

Night had brought with it doubt and it seems their earlier conversation was nothing but a Band-Aid on the situation, short-lived.

Daryl’s breath clouded in front of his face and it took until he had haltingly counted up to seventeen before he managed to drag himself forward. His movements were slow and sluggish, something he blamed on the multitude of heavy booted kicks to his torso and definitely not the rapid thumping of blood in his ears.

When he eventually sidled up to Rick’s back, the change in temperature was immediate. When his hands found purchase in the hem of Rick’s jacket, the feeling flooded back to his fingertips. When his forehead made contact with Rick’s shoulder blade, his mind cleared.

“Daryl?” Rick croaked into the darkness, still sounding so raw and broken that Daryl tightened his grip.

“It’s fucking cold,” he said and, this close, his breath came back warm against his face.

Rick’s answering laugh was a rattle in his lungs but music to Daryl’s ears. Tension slowly leaked from his frame and despite the fact that they were curled on their sides on cold sheet metal, the shared warmth and a familiar body was almost pleasant.

He could hear the scratch and rasp of Rick moving his arm but Daryl knew it wasn’t for him. The only person within reach was Carl and the image of Rick’s hand wrapped loosely around his son’s ankle followed him into a passable sleep.

They had no idea what to expect come morning but he could definitely hold Rick’s wounds closed until then.


End file.
